


like they know the score

by acastle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Idiots in Love, M/M, Slow Burn, Spin the Bottle, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it wasn't something sudden, then. Had probably felt like this for a long while, he thinks. Just didn't realize it until that moment he stood stock still staring at Niall laughing at his own lack of coordination as Harry missed half of his Little White Lies solo.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Specifically, where the boys play a stupid game of Spin the Bottle after their last show, and Harry wants to kiss Niall. Just not in front of the rest of them.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	like they know the score

**Author's Note:**

> I’m nervous about this one, for multiple reasons. Sorry. I hope it’s okay. (Probably) unrealistic sex ahead. Sorry again (I guess). 
> 
> (Title from [here](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C_JdKJQPS9I))

Harry's ears are still ringing from the thunderous cheers and screams from the crowd, his hands shaking slightly and his feet more unstable than usual, as if he were still onstage and wanting to fuck about and get on his knees and. The audience had been sick as anything, singing along to every line, doing the little choreography they did have to the other songs, clapping the fast as fuck beat during Girl Almighty, thrown even more stuff than usual at the stage and went absolutely hysterical when Zayn showed up halfway through, finishing the set and even performing six encores with the rest of them. It was a good, fucking sick show. The last one for a while, and it couldn't have gone any better.

"Lads lads LADS!" Louis yells, hanging off of Liam as his drink sloshes around in the glass held precariously in his other hand. "Spin the bottle! SPIN THE BOTTLE! Get up!" He kicks at Zayn's feet from where he's sprawled out on the floor, half-gone and holding his beer from the bottle neck.

"Christ's sake, Lou, stop it," Zayn mumbles, and he's struggling to get back up on his feet, Perrie and Harry helping him stand. "You're a few years from thirty, start acting like it."

"Haven't forgotten, Malik! Holding back my 'bitchy comments'-"

"It's my life, Tommo!" Zayn half yells, but there's no fire in it. They're both grinning, and Louis manages to get a swig of Zayn's fancy beer that cost too much. Took them awhile to get back to this point, too long, maybe, but Harry's thankful they're all talking again. Proper brothers, and all that.

"Isn't that a game for teenagers getting drunk for the first time?" Sophia says from the side, probably the next most sober person in the room aside from Harry, but that's not saying much. Everyone save from him's had at least five of the lethal looking drinks that Louis had demanded from the hotel bar, not including the beer they decided to drink as chasers. Harry had smartly steered clear for once, wanting to remember this day as clearly as possible. Wants to remember the last time he'll be with these people for a while. Especially-

"Haz!" Niall slurs in his ear, and he's clinging on to him, arms around his middle as he presses his warm cheek against his. He hopes that the sudden blush in his skin doesn't show. "Spin the bottle!"

"I agree with Soph, that's a bit childish," Harry mumbles, walking over to the sofas with Niall so he can rest his leg. He's been feeling an ache as of late, but wanted to finish the tour before he went to see his doctors. Never really complained about it, though. He's just always been like that.

He doesn't know how he started feeling like this. All he knows was that one day, sometime around last year, in Manila, he thinks, during a fucking show, as they were doing the dumbfuck jagger dance and it was hot as fuck and he might have been a little delirious from the heat, but Niall almost tripped but laughed at himself, eyes scrunched up and hand on his chest and grinning so fucking widely. And he just knew. Felt the warmth spread all over his chest and a subtle ache in his heart and all he can see was Niall Niall Niall.

It didn't feel as sudden as he'd thought it would, though. Not as scary, being in love with your band mate and best friend. Maybe it wasn't something sudden, then. Had probably felt like this for a long while, he thinks. Just didn't realize it until that moment he stood stock still staring at Niall laughing at his own lack of coordination as Harry missed half of his Little White Lies solo, and knowing he sounded a little off when Liam poked his side to get him singing, but he didn't care, not at that moment.

"As if you'd miss an opportunity to snog any one of us, Haz," Louis scoffs, grabbing everyone and forcing them to form a circle on the ground in front of the sofa, grabbing the almost empty bottle of vodka from Liam and downing the rest of it until the bottle was empty. "And I won't get to see any of you lot for the next eight months at least, let me have this."

He's looking carefully at Harry, and not for the first time, he's suddenly regretting telling Louis about the fact that he was suddenly in love with Niall. It had spilled out one day when Liam and Niall were off on the other bus, Liam phoning Sophia and Niall FaceTiming with Melly. It was a long time ago, no one even mentions her anymore, but at that point, Harry felt his heart catch in his throat every time he saw her face or whenever Niall went off to do whatever with her. He knew that they were never really serious, that it was just a recurring thing, popping up every other month, but. He had so desperately wanted to tell Niall and confess the way he felt, and Louis had caught him crying in his bunk, and everything just came out.

"Yeah, Harry, please," Niall's pulling at his belt loop, pouting a little, and he can't look at him. Stares pointedly at the floor where the rest of them have settled, and they're not a lot. Them, Sophia, Pez. The band, Julian and John left just a few minutes ago, as they had an earlier flight. Mark, Sam and the rest of their security had bowed out three drinks in, and Lou and Caroline left after the dinner, Lux and Brooklyn having school the next day and what not.

Next moment he knew, he's dragged down to the floor, and Niall's lifting himself off the sofa to plop down next to him, a little less than graceful, but he laughs all the same, planting a kiss on the corner of Zayn's mouth as Zayn hands him another shot.

"Oi, not yet, I want to go first," Louis yells, and he's spinning the bottle in the middle of their misshapen circle. They all watch it spin, round and round, until it slows down and points at Liam.

"Pucker up, Payno-"

"Lou, don't," Liam mutters, but Louis is knocking him over on his back, and he's mouthing sloppily at his lips.

"Pathetic, Liam," Zayn says forwardly, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "I know you can do more than that."

"Still 100% not gay, Payno?!" Louis practically screams as he rears back, and Liam looks pretty unimpressed himself. "You don't mind, do you, love?" He turns, asking Sophia, and she replies with a wave of her hand and a hiccup, then erupting into a giggling fit, Perrie and Niall not far behind.

"Christ, it's been years since that, please," Liam says, grumbling, and he's leaning forward to turn the bottle. "Could've done with less slobber, though, Tommo-"

"Fuck you, Payne! Lips that launched a thousand ships, these!"

"That's not even remotely true," Harry murmurs, and only Niall ends up hearing, but he laughs anyway, loud and surprised intoxicated and adorable.

Liam leans over to kiss Zayn when the bottle stops, pointing at him, and it makes him wonder, honestly, if they ever had a thing, if that one kiss that they had where Zayn just planted one on an unsuspecting Liam had turned into more. They just get into it so naturally, without any pretense, and if he hears right, he thinks it's Perrie who's cooing. So strange. It makes him a bit jealous.

"See, knew you had it in you," Zayn pats at Liam's cheek, then, before he has his turn at the bottle, mutters under his breath in a shit whisper, "Or maybe Louis really is just shit at snogging-"

"Malik! How could you?! I'm supposed to be your favorite! You promised me after we made up, twat!" Louis pouts at him.

"Nope, pretty sure it's Nialler," he replies with a shrug, and he's patting at his lap while gesturing to Niall, who immediately climbs on, straddling him, and wraps his arms over his shoulders before placing his lips right over Zayn's.

It catches them all off guard, none more so than Harry. They're really going for it, proper making out, and he tries to quell the ache in his chest by pressing the heel of his palm over his heart, hoping no one would see. He knows he can't be mad at Zayn, he doesn't know, but Harry can't help but feel a little betrayed as he watches Niall's lips slide over Zayn's mouth languidly, and he bets anything at the groan Zayn's let out that Niall had probably slipped his tongue into his mouth.

He bangs against his chest a little harder, clearing his throat as discretely as possible, and Louis catches his eye. He looks carefully at him, studying him, before he clears his own throat, much louder, and says, "Think Pez wants you to stop now!"

"Don't speak for me, Tomlinson," Perrie says, eyes trained on her fiancée and the boy in his lap, not looking the least bit jealous or upset, but the two separate anyway, and they're laughing, of all things.

"You lot have been sleeping on Ni," Zayn says, swigging back a shot. "No wonder he'd want to kiss that fucking wax figure of himself, if he'd get a kiss like that. That was something-"

"I want a Niall kiss," Sophia says, pouting and staring at Liam, as if asking for permission. "Li, I want a Niall kiss-"

Niall laughs again, spins the bottle deftly and saying, "I don't know if Payno would be okay with that-"

"You'd be surprised," Liam says, and he's grinning, looking so fucking relaxed, and Harry wants to throttle them all.

Funnily, the bottle does land on Sophia, and she’s giggling happily, clapping her hands and crawling over to him, and she says, “Rock my world, Horan.”

He laughs, and catches her round the waist when she launches herself at him, and she’s going right for it, kissing him hard from the get go.

Harry wants to look away, he really does, but it’s like he physically can’t tear his gaze away from them. The way she melts into his arms and suddenly the kiss looks tender, almost, but no less passionate. He kisses her deep, sucking on her full lips slightly, and Harry can’t blame Liam, for the way his mouth is hanging open, eyes glazed over.

“Ni, I want a turn-”

“Sorry, Li, go ahead, Soph,” Niall says, smiling at Sophia as she moves away from him, and she’s got the same glazed look in her eye, her lips plumper and a little bruised, and shit. What Harry would give, honestly, to let Niall cause him to look like that.

“Don’t think he wants it from me, Ni,” is all she says, and Niall looks a little confused before he realizes just what she means, and he laughs again.

“Spin the fecking bottle, love; you’ll get your turn, Payno,” he winks over at Liam as she reluctantly has her turn.

Harry just looks on at the game, smiling a bit when Sophia’s turn lands on him, and he acquiesces by giving her a short, gentle kiss, which Louis proceeds to criticize and call “ _insulting_.”

He ends up getting Perrie, and he doesn’t know if he should be thankful it wasn’t Niall or not as she leans across the circle to kiss him. He feels a bit shit, for being so distracted, but she seems to understand, patting at his cheek lightly when they’re done kissing, and giving him a look, which makes him think that she knows more than she lets on. Glances up to see Zayn giving him the same look, a little sympathetic, more understanding, and he wonders, asks himself when did he become so obvious.

Eventually, everyone except him has gotten a turn at snogging Niall, and it’s a little devastating, watching him make them fall under his spell so effortlessly, easily. He knows it really won’t mean much more than a spectacular make out session within the confines of the hotel room, but it hurts, all the same. It hurts, seeing him snog the life out of Liam, who trails after his lips once they’ve separated. Hurts when Perrie topples them both over when she gets a little too enthusiastic, but he kisses her with no less fervor, hands roaming all over her back, and Zayn doesn’t look the least bit phased. Just says a quiet, “Go for it, Pez,” as he watches them on the ground. Louis looks hesitant when his turn lands on Niall, tries to communicate with Harry nonverbally, but Harry doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head when Louis tries to stare him down and Niall’s pulling at his jacket, towards him, and placing his lips over his mouth.

Harry doesn’t him for the moan that slips out of his mouth as Niall grabs on to his face, his fingers reaching up to pull on Louis's hair, feathery and loose, since disheveled from the posh pompadour he had for the show as a little splurge for himself and Lou, and it kills him, a little bit. As much as he wouldn’t want Niall to kiss him because of a stupid game that he probably won’t remember come tomorrow, he’s so sorely tempted to just let himself have this and maybe hope a little that when Niall spins the bottle it will land on him and.

He doesn’t know, really. How to feel. Especially now that it’s more than likely that Niall will go fuck off to Melbourne or somewhere too, too far, and he’ll escape to LA, as usual, for the next year.

“ _Christ_ ,” Louis mutters as Niall gives him one last peck on the lips, and Niall's grinning at him, happy and pretty relaxed. "Why'd you hide that from the rest of us, you twat?"

Niall just winks at him, bending over to spin the bottle.

It's pretty funny how Harry is all too aware as it slowly stops turning, like fucking slow motion, cliche as it fucking sounds, pointing decisively in his direction as it halts. Doesn’t fail to notice that Louis and Zayn immediately staring at him, faces shocked and concerned as Liam and Sophia are hooting and cheering, and he's all too aware. Too aware of the fact that Niall is most probably going to. Well.

"Yay, got the whole lot now," Niall smiles, crawling over to where he's sat, immobile, and he thinks his brain short circuits when Niall climbs onto his lap, legs on either side of his hips, and Harry has to duck his head down when Niall tries to place his lips over his. He can't do this. Not like this.

"Harry," he whines, sliding his arms over Harry's shoulders and effectively drawing them closer together. Harry thinks, probably more from the proximity, that he can feel Niall's heart beating against him. Knows that Niall should feel his own trying to hammer out of his chest, or the way his skin has gone all clammy and he knows, knows that he should have done up his shirt, for once. If just for this purpose.

Niall grinds down accidentally on his crotch as he shuffles around, trying to get comfortable, and Harry barely bites back his moan at the last minute, his hands instinctively going up to hold on to his hips.

"Haz," Niall sighs out a little in frustration when Harry avoids his mouth again, "Come on, it's just a kiss, won't do you any harm-"

"I don't want to," Harry says, the biggest half lie he's ever told, and the effect is immediate. Niall gets off his lap, moving back to his place in the circle and he looks a little hurt. Defiant, eyebrows furrowed together and lips pursed, as if he were trying to hide it, but he looks. Hurt. Upset.

"Sorry, Harry, didn't realize you had a problem with snogging me, though you didn't mind with everyone else," and he sounds sad, more than anything. Kind of bitter, a little angry, but definitely sad, above all.

"I-" Harry stops himself from saying the rest of the sentence. " _-don't want to do it like this_ ," swallows his words instead and just stares at him.

The rest of the room is quiet for once, though he wishes for anything else to be the case. He can feel everyone looking between the two of them, concern and confusion all around, and the way Niall is decidedly not looking at him. This kills him more than anything that's happened tonight.

He murmurs Niall's name softly, and he barely acknowledges him, and Harry. He shoves down his pride and.

He lets himself have this one. Just this once.

"Sorry, Ni," he tries to smooth everything over, the sudden heaviness over the circle, and he crawls over to him, kneels right in front of him so that their knees are touching. "Sorry. Just wanted a different position, wasn't comfortable with the other one. Sorry."

He can tell that Niall, probably no one in the room save for Liam, is buying it, but Niall glances up at him anyway. There's a trace of his sadness in his face, and Harry runs a finger along his jaw.

_Just this once._

He’s the one who places his mouth over Niall’s, this time. A slide of his lips against Niall’s soft, slightly swollen mouth, and he tamps down the thought that other people had caused his lips to look, feel like that.

It’s just a kiss. Won’t do him any harm, like he said.

The thought doesn’t stop him from melting into the simple touch. Feels it down to the very tips of his fingers.

He pulls back, intending for it to be quick, harmless. So it won’t cause him that much more trouble, down the end of the line, resigning himself to the somewhat reassuring thought that he got to kiss him, at least, but Niall has other ideas. Grabs his face and pulls Harry back to him and kisses him, deep and gentle. Moves his lips carefully over Harry’s, biting tenderly at his mouth a few times, and it’s like electricity. Harry doesn’t know what else to think about it. It’s like all his nerve endings are on fire.

Niall slips his tongue into his mouth, and Harry’s leaning forward, hand on Niall’s thigh to anchor him, and he sucks on his tongue, milking this for all its worth. Climbs on to his lap, just like Niall did to him, when Niall nudges him to move, and he knows this might hurt him in the long run, but he can’t stop. Just keeps kissing him, kissing Niall and biting his lips and dragging his own tongue to move against his and letting him hold him, one of Niall’s hands cupping his cheek, the other holding on to his hip, over the soft muscle that he somehow could never get to harden even after years and years of eating food that tasted of nothing and working out every fucking day for the last almost decade of his life, and he feels so. Taken care of.

It’s when Niall’s hand moves over to his ass does he tell himself, " _enough, that's enough_." He can't do this anymore, not without it really hurting him.

He rears back, moving back slowly to his place in the circle, and he can't look at Niall. Just stares at his lap and the frayed edges of the rip in his jeans, and the noise Louis is trying to distract everyone with is forced, too loud. But he appreciates it all the same, that Zayn's even joined in when usually he'd be fucking gone by now, but it's done. Nothing they can really do to fix this.

He still feels the tingling on the thin skin of his lips.

*

He hugs all of them when they go back to their respective rooms. Louis holds him for longer, tighter, as if to make up for Niall's brief hug, and Harry is grateful for the effort, he really does, but it's not the same.

He doesn't want to end it like this. Doesn't want this to this to be the way he and Niall leave things before they go on the indefinite break.

But. When he goes to see him. Niall's locked his room, which he never does.

*

He tweets a message (" _All the love, always, forever. H_ "), meaning it in many ways, and he's finishing up his packing when there's a knock on his door.

He isn't prepared to see Niall on the other side. Looking much more sober, serious and expecting, eyes bright and lips a thin line.

"What time's your flight tomorrow?" is what he asks Harry, and it's not as harsh as he expected. The tone is gentle, maybe a little resigned.

"Plane leaves at 3 in the afternoon," he replies quietly. "You?"

"Need to be in the airport before 10 am," Niall says, and he's staring right at him, and Harry finds himself not being able to read his face. A rare, rare occurrence.

“Okay,” he’s at a loss on what to say, on how to fix things, and Niall just looks at him, calculating and careful.

“Okay,” is the reply he gets, and suddenly they’re not talking anymore.

Niall holds his face and pushes their lips together, immediately hard and shoving his tongue into Harry’s mouth, and it takes him a moment to respond because _christ_. Of all things to happen tonight.

He guesses _just this once_ still applies to now, so.

He holds Niall on either side of his waist, grip tight and pulling them flush together, and Niall surges forward until they’re both in the room. Harry barely registers Niall turning them and he’s pushed against the door, closing it, and he’s still kissing him, still pulling at his lips with his teeth and moving his tongue languidly against Niall’s and Niall comes forward, pressing his crotch against Harry’s, and he has to moan into his mouth a bit at the sensation.

“Can we?” Niall asks in a hoarse voice, fingers pulling at the ends of his curls, forehead pressed against his. “Haz? If you don’t want to-”

“Fuck, of course I want to, twat,” Harry huffs, and he’s snogging Niall again. Let’s himself taste and remember and keep this. Let’s himself have this, just this once.

They walk over to the bed with the least amount of grace as possible, and Harry can’t help himself. Laughs against Niall’s mouth whenever he curses, whenever either of them trip over anything or less than cautiously rid themselves of their shirts, and Niall always tells him in a half-hearted, teasing tone to shut up, no heat in any of his words as evidenced by the kisses he doesn’t stop giving him.

It’s a lot less angsty than what he expected, what he thought how pulling your unrequited love would feel like. Or maybe it’s just Niall. It’s never complicated with him, it’s just Harry who’s the idiot.

“Hey, stay with me,” Niall says after they topple on to the bed, mouthing down Harry’s torso, biting into his love handle as he unzips his jeans. “Don’t daze off, I want us both to remember this-”

“Yeah, sorry, sorry,” Harry replies quietly, and Niall’s holding his hand, guiding it over to his head as the other pulls down his jeans and boxers, just enough so that his cock springs free, half hard.

“You don’t mind if I blow you, right?”

“Fuck, stop asking stupid questions,” Harry says, trying to sound angry, but it’s a moot point when Niall goes right for it. He groans as his prick is enveloped in a tight, warm heat, and Niall seems to know what he’s doing. Sucking his cock slowly, bobbing his head as he takes Harry in inch by inch, and Harry never would have thought. After years of knowing each other, that Niall would know how to take him apart, piece by piece.

“Fucking _shit_ , Ni,” Harry moans as Niall relaxes his throat, and suddenly his dick is sliding down deeper. He can feel the tears collecting at the corners of his eyes from how fucking good it feels. Pulls on Niall’s hair, surely more for the purpose of grounding him to this moment than anything else. “What the fuck, I thought you had a shit gag reflex.”

“I worked on it,” Niall replies after he pulls off of his cock, fully hard, and he tugs on it a few times. Harry bites his lip to keep in the sound, a useless action because it comes out anyway, and he pushes down his jealousy, his hurt that Niall’s had others, before him. It’s hypocritical of him, because he most certainly has had his experience, but he’s never known that Niall was even remotely interested in men. It isn’t fair.

“Wanna do you,” he says, flipping them over so that Niall was on his back, and he sucks on his neck, biting and soothing it with his tongue after every press of his teeth. “Fuck, I wanna blow you, have your prick in my mouth, filling it up, finally-”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Niall mutters, head thumping back into the mattress as Harry makes a trail of love bites on his chest, his faintly defined stomach, hard under his fingertips, and he’s biting into his hip as he pulls down Niall’s joggers-

“You went commando, you fucker,” Harry murmurs, and he can’t stop staring at his cock, almost completely hard and standing. “Did you come here thinking that we would be fucking-”

“Just wanted to be with you, don’t care how,” Niall replies, and it’s a lot more honest than Harry was expecting. He was just trying for some dirty talk, and. Fuck. “I was hoping for something, but. I don’t know. Would’ve been fine if we just talked, but I didn’t know what to say. Your pace, Haz. Was only waiting for you.”

Harry can’t look at him. Presses his forehead against Niall’s thigh, and his fingers that find their way to his head are so good in his hair. Pulling a little, gently pressing, and he knows it’s been dropped when Niall starts rubbing the back of his head tenderly, and he’s thankful.

He ignores the slight heaviness in his chest, the tears that are all of a sudden wanting to make their presence known, definitely not caused by blowjob heaven, the words choked up in his throat, and he distracts himself by licking at the tip of Niall’s cock. The fingers in his hair pull tighter when he slides his tongue over the shaft, and Niall moves his hands over to his jaw, and he knows what to do. Opens his mouth and takes his cock into his mouth, carefully, and he’s alright with blowjobs, knows he proficient, even good, with it, and he’s okay with doing it, if the dick was nice.

But Niall’s so careful with him. Helps him relax his jaw, waits for him patiently as he takes his prick, letting it slide into his throat, and his cock is honestly so pretty. He feels so safe, comfortable, with the weight of Niall’s dick heavy on his tongue and going in deeper, as deep as Harry will let him and he loves it. Feeling so. Taken care of.

He bobs his head faster, tapping at Niall’s thigh, and Niall’s thrusting in harder, deeper, and Harry can’t get enough of it. Wants everything he can get, even though he knows it will hurt later, when he’s in a plane and decidedly not going to see him for a good while.

“Fuck, your mouth is so good,” Niall moans into the still air as he fucks Harry’s face. “Shit, Haz, can you fuck me?”

Harry chokes on his cock then, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. He coughs, pulling of of his prick, and waving off Niall’s apologies and his hands, trying to hold on to his chin to see if he had hurt him, and he blames the sudden lack of air in his throat for his reply, that he never intentionally wanted to voice out. “But I wanted you to fuck me.”

A beat. Then-

“Okay, we can do that too,” Niall says with a bit of a shrug, feigning nonchalance, but Harry knows him too well. That, and he can feel Niall’s cock twitch against his cheek. Idiot. “But, want your cock in me first.”

“Not a problem,” Harry’s voice cracks, but neither of them care, and he’s pulling off both of their bottoms off completely, before bending over the side of the bed to search through his bag, grabbing his lube, thankfully still half full, but the condoms.

“Shit, I don’t have any,” he murmurs to himself, rummaging through the bag, hoping that maybe at least one or two might have been stubbornly hiding between his sheer shirts and colored tops, but no such luck. “Do you have any condoms?”

Niall shakes his head, and Harry bites his lip. “Well, we could always ask Zayn or Payno-”

“I, um, I’m good? Without?” Niall says, and there’s a blush spreading across his skin, and Harry loves him so. He knows he's being so pathetic, but. “I mean, I’m clean, I know you are too, so if you’re okay with it, we can fuck without-”

“Shit Ni, you sure?” he has to ask, and he’s just covering all his bases, but his cock jumps up at the thought of being inside Niall without anything between them. Having Niall come in him. A tangible reminder dripping out of him, _christ_.

“Yeah, want this, want you,” Niall says, and he’s pulling him down for a kiss, and it’s glorious. It’s everything.

He takes this moment slowly, kisses Niall deep and licks into his mouth, and Niall’s wrapping his legs around his waist, pushing their naked cocks together, and they both moan into the kiss as his cock slides against Niall’s both slick with spit and precome and he’s so overwhelmed.

“Come on, want to come within the next hour, Harry,” Niall whispers against his lips, and there’s lube being drizzled over his fingers, Niall’s doing, but he can’t really register it properly. Feels Niall hiss a bit against his lips as his fingers are being guided to Niall’s arse, his forefinger dipping in a bit into his hole, and he knows it’s from the cold lube more than anything else.

He takes over from there, waiting and moving his finger slowly in, until he’s up to the knuckle, and Niall’s got his eyes closed, head tilted back slightly, and Harry can’t help but lean forward and bite into his jaw.

Soon, he’s three fingers in, has long since found Niall’s prostate and is taking full advantage of the knowledge, pressing in whenever he can, and Niall’s moaning, louder and louder and swearing up a storm, thrashing on the bed a bit, and he’s groaning, “Come on, please. Fuck me, Haz-”

“Yeah, yeah alright,” Harry swallows, and he’s shaking a bit. Grabbing a pillow and lifting Niall’s hips to place under him, and he’s positioning himself over him, feeling too excited and too nervous at the same time.

“Just me, Haz,” Niall’s saying into his ear when he pulls Harry’s body down, so they’re flush together. “Don’t need to be impressed, just want you.”

Harry gulps, hands probably cold and sweaty on Niall’s thigh and hip, and he’s arranging his legs to cross behind his back, to distract himself. Niall moans, biting his lip as the tip of his cock touches his hole, and he’s pushing in slowly, watching Niall’s face wince a bit at the initial push, and gradually relax as Harry eventually bottoms out, hips flush to his ass.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasps, burying his face in Niall’s neck. He can hardly breathe from everything compounding on him. He pulls back a bit, the heat and friction dragging around his prick too fucking good, tight and amazing, and he thrusts back in, and he does it, again and again, faster and harder.

“ _Harry_ ,” Niall moans and Harry has to shut him up. Kisses him deep and swallowing his moans as he fucks into him, hard and deep.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Harry says against his mouth, angling himself a bit and he’s shoving harder. Niall whines below him, throwing his head back, and Harry knows he found the spot. Thrusts in carefully the same way, a little rougher, and Niall’s holding on to his neck and bringing his head down for another kiss as his cock is rubbing between them.

“Can you,” Niall breathes, pausing to gasp when Harry picks up the pace, “can you stretch yourself for me? Fuck-”

Harry feels like he’s going to die from how turned on he is, and he fucks in harder to show his assent. Thankfully, Niall picks up on it and grabs the lube, pours some on to his fingers, and Harry’s immediately reaching behind himself to press his fingers into his own hole. He’s rough immediately, but it feels so good, his fingers in his ass and Niall’s tight heat clenching around him, and he honestly cannot wait for Niall to be in him. He puts in another finger, and he’s fucking harder into Niall as he fucks himself with his digits. He feels slightly conscious, but more aroused, not missing the way Niall’s staring at him with glazed over eyes, pupils blown over the sight of Harry fucking him into oblivion while fingering himself.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, kissing him again, and Harry loves it. Loves him too, fucking christ. He moves his foot slightly, dragging the tips of his toes over the swell of Harry’s ass, making Harry shiver and shove in harder into him at the unexpected contact, and says, “Can’t wait to have your arse around me, fuck-”

“ _God_ ,” Harry whimpers, shoving three fingers in hard as he shoves into Niall. He’s impatient, too eager, and he can’t wait anymore. He needs Niall in him, now.

He pulls out after a few more hard thrusts, and Niall whines at the loss, his ass clenching around his cock as if to try to keep him in as he dragged himself out, and Harry can’t take this.

He crawls away from him, getting on his knees on the space beside Niall and groans, “Please, please now. Fuck me.”

“Holy shit, Haz,” Niall says, slightly awed, and he gets up to his knees and gets behind him. Grabs on to his hips, squeezing at his hips, and Harry’s suddenly grateful that he never managed to get rid of them, the love handles. It feels too good when Niall holds on to them, gripping tightly, and _fuck_.

Niall pulls his ass to his hips, and Harry moans, loudly, at the head of Niall’s cock finding its way to his rim, and pushing in slow, careful, and it’s so good. He’s pushing in in in until his hips are flush to his cheeks, and he’s so overwhelmed.

“Perfect, holy fuck,” Niall says so quietly he almost misses it, and he’s leaning forward, pressing kisses all over his back, his spine. “God, you’re so perfect. Fuck, your arse-”

He grinds in hard, and Harry whines, gripping at the sheets. Niall pulls back eventually, and fucks in hard, harder, and he’s holding Harry around the waist, his chest pressing against Harry’s back, sweat sticking them together, and Harry is so turned on his teeth hurt. He clenches tight around Niall, which earns him a long moan, right in his ear, and Niall picks up the pace, fucking in roughly.

“Fuck,” Niall whispers in his ear, and he’s relentless in his thrusting, and Harry bites back his moan when Niall’s hand palms his arse, squeezing and playing and he can’t tell if it’s the best or worst kind of teasing. “ _Fuck_ ,” he repeats himself, fucking in hard and the head presses right against his prostate.

“ _Niall_ ,” he moans, pretty sure that the tears have leaked out, and he falls down to his stomach, unable to hold himself up for much longer. “Oh my god-”

Niall’s on him immediately, covering his body and entering him easily, roughly, and Harry can’t take it. The sheets rubbing against his cock, Niall’s body warm pressed right on top of him, his chin tucked in over Harry’s shoulder and his rough breathing and moaning and cursing right up being hissed directly in his ear, the cock dicking perfectly into him and he can’t take it.

“Ni,” Harry cries, trying to spread his legs and just letting Niall fuck him into the mattress. Trying and willing him to fuck him harder as he tries to move his hips back a bit against his thrusts. “More, please. Harder-”

“I got you, Haz,” Niall murmurs into his ear, and his cock is entering him in such perfect strokes, hard and deep and one after the other. “God, you’re taking it so well-”

He’s fucking him even harder, if possible, and it’s so good, but he stops mid-grind and mutters, “Fuck, I need to see you-”

“What-”

Harry’s yelping when Niall pulls out and making him to lie on his back, and no. He can’t come like this. Niall will see him. He’ll see everything, but he loses his train of thought when Niall shoves right back into his hole, so so perfect.

“There, right there,” Niall’s whispering, fucking in and Harry takes it, whimpering when Niall kisses him again, his cock getting the friction it needs between their bodies.

Niall’s reaching above him to grip at the bars of the headboard, and he’s slamming in, and he’s pretty sure the sound he emits is in no way human, but Niall urges him on, his balls slapping against his ass and his breath hot against Harry’s lips as they moan and gasp into each other’s mouths.

He feels his stomach tightening, the heat pooling and his balls drawing up, and Niall’s fucking him so perfectly and he barely gets a hand around himself when he comes, hard and everywhere, up to their necks, shouting into the quiet room as he squeezes around Niall’s cock and murmuring his name.

“God, you still feel so good,” he says, softly, as Niall goes on to pound into him, harder and harder until-

“Harry, fucking _christ_ ,” he moans loudly, and he’s coming in his arse, and Harry moans himself at the feeling of being filled up.

Niall manages to catch himself from collapsing on top of him, though he can’t say he would have minded that, and he’s pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and more chaste, takes a few deep breaths before he pulls out of him.

Harry whimpers at the loss, feeling the come trickle down a little, but Niall procures a flannel, cleans him up a bit, carefully, tenderly, wiping down his chest and gentle touches around his sensitive arse.

“Please sleep here,” he tamps down the last bit of his pride and asks for this one last thing, and he’s staring at Niall. “Please.”

“Of course, whatever you want,” is what Niall answers, tone so soft, and he’s giving him this small smile.

Harry loves him so. Wishes him every bit of happiness. Thanks every heaven, every god that he got to know him. That he got to spend this night with him.

He wordless gets on his side, and Niall automatically curls up behind him, one arm over his body and pressing his hand over Harry’s heart. A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck, his hair swept aside, and he feels so content, in this moment. Revels in it, takes in everything he can before this all ends in a few hours.

Tells, thinks to himself, as Niall falls asleep behind him, to not hold his breath. Try to not to be disappointed when tomorrow comes.

His _just this once_ is about to expire.

*

He had woken up after a few hours of sleep. He’s used to it, what with so many years on the road and uneven sleeping schedules all the time. This had been a good sleep though. Quiet, comfortable. A warmth behind him, close and keeping him anchored when he woke up. It was good, and he would have loved nothing more than to stay right where he was.

Niall’s chest was warm, moving slightly as he breathed in and out in his sleep, so peaceful.

Harry turned carefully to face him, and he loves him. Regrets that he had only come to realize his feelings last year, but. Everything about this life had been so worth it, if just for the fact that this life had allowed him to know of Niall’s existence.

He had kissed him lightly, once on the forehead, then his lips, and this was his goodbye.

That was a few hours ago.

He’s in the airport now, waiting for the announcement over the PA system for the boarding time. He got a ticket for an earlier flight, earlier than any of the boys, and left a still sleeping Niall after a short shower with soft kiss, a text with a simple but loaded " _Sorry. Please understand. I love you_." still waiting to be sent, and it's a selfish, low, stupid move, but.

_Enough. Enough now._

*

He never gets round to sending the text. Was planning it after a long nap he had taken after arriving in LA, but there wouldn't be any point.

Niall was already waiting in the living room, sat on the couch and looking angry and disappointed and. Hurt.

"You're a twat," are the first words out of his mouth, sounding cold and Harry is barely registering them, staring dumbfounded at the sight of Niall, just there, sitting in his leather couch as he curses him out. "What the fuck were you thinking? Did you think it was okay to just book an earlier flight and not tell any of us? Waited for over an hour before Sam got the details, fuck you-"

"Niall," he says on an exhale, overwhelmed because Niall followed him to LA. To swear at him. "Ni-"

"Of all the things you've ever done to me," Niall says quietly, and Harry almost wishes that he were shouting instead. That he were yelling and being angry instead of this. Disappointment laced in his words.

"Fuck, not even a note, Haz," Niall goes on to say, sounding harsher, but the sadness is all too evident on his face. "Do I honestly mean that little to you? After almost ten years, this is what you leave me with?"

"Niall, no," Harry stutters, and he can't move, can't say more as Niall cuts over him.

"You were supposed to be it, Harry," Niall says, and he can't breathe. "I. You've no idea how this feels. You were supposed to be the one who wouldn't let me down, not that way. I was so sure you wouldn't, but when I woke up alone-"

"Niall, I'm sorry," he chokes out, and he wants to cry. He had no idea. "Niall, I didn't know-"

"What else is new," he mutters, and his eyes are like ice boring into his own. "Should have known. I read the signs all wrong, I know that now, but. I decided to go with my heart just this once. Look where it's gotten me."

"Ni-"

"Fuck you, Harry, I trusted you," Niall says, and it's deathly quiet, and he's not looking at him anymore.

He's getting up from the cushions and making his way out, and Harry can't watch him go.

"Ni, please-"

"I'm done, Haz. Came here just to say my piece, Wanted you to see with your own eyes what a fucked up piece of shit you were to just up and leave your best mate."

He makes to leave, but Harry immediately follows him, and holds him, pulling their bodies together with his chest molded on to Niall’s back. He buries his head in Niall’s nape, and whispers, “I’m sorry, please. I thought it would be easier, if I didn't stay, but I was wrong. I'm sorry.”

Niall doesn’t make to push him away, but Harry can feel how deep his breathing is, as if biting back a scathing response. Doesn’t need to face him to know that his eyebrows are probably furrowed in frustration, a frown most probably prominent on his face.

“Stop acting like you care-"

"I do care!" He says into his neck, loud and maybe a little hysterical, but he goes on. "I do, too much. I care too much."

"Got a funny way of showing it."

"I’m sorry," he cries, and he's holding him tighter. Can’t explain for what comes out of his mouth next. "I love you, please-"

He's the pretty sure all the airs been sucked out of the room. Niall goes rigid in his arms, and he can't seem to breathe.

"Let go of me," Niall replies curtly, and it sounds so final and it's not fair. He probably deserves it, but it's not fair.

He starts to cry, tightening his arms around him in a last attempt to keep him here, but Niall repeats his words, and he relents, releasing Niall from his hold. He hugs himself instead, and he cries, head bowed and wiping at the tears that fall on to his cheeks. He’s never been a really pretty crier, but he feels like his chest is getting crushed, and no matter what he does, no matter how much he tries to repress them, the tears just keep falling, staining his skin and it leaves him dry.

“Jesus, you’re going to hyperventilate, sit down,” Niall murmurs, and why hasn’t he left yet, and he’s being guided to the couch with gentle hands and careful steps.

Once he’s seated, Niall pulls the coffee table closer to them, and plops down on it, right in front of Harry. He brings his hands up to help wipe at his tears, and it just makes him cry harder. Lean against his touch, hold his hands to his face, keeps them there.

“Idiot, stop crying, you’re going to get sick,” he says quietly, sweeping his thumbs under his eyes, but Harry just shakes his head more, words clogged up in his throat painfully. “Stop it, it’s just me. Nothing to cry about-”

He shakes his head again, more vehemently, because no.

Took him so fucking long to get it. Niall was, is, everything. And he hasn’t left yet.

He calms down some after a while, Niall holding his cheek and rubbing at his arm, and it’s quiet aside from Harry’s sniffles, tapering off.

“You know what it was for me?”

Harry glances up at the words, and Niall’s looking down at his lap, one foot tapping on the carpet.

“You called yourself a raconteur. Pretentious git,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I didn’t even know what that was, had to Google it. Laughed my arse off when I saw what it meant. Skilled and witty, you definitely aren't. You realize I’m one of the few people who ever really listen to your stories and not make fun of you constantly for it, yeah? Never forgot that word, after that.”

He’s shaking his head, still laughing quietly to himself, and Harry can’t make the connection. What does he mean, that that was it?

“After laughing about it, I remembered wanting to maybe kiss the pretentiousness out of you,” Niall explains, and _oh_. “Shocked me, a bit, too feel that way, but. There you go. That was it.

“Never did anything about it, because you were you, yeah? I knew that I would never have you, because that’s just not who you are, thought you’d never see me that way, and I was alright with it. Never really stopped for me, but I got over it. Moved on, yeah? But I never really stopped feeling that way, but you’re my best mate. That was enough.”

Harry moves forward and leans his forehead on Niall’s shoulder. That was nearly five years ago. He can’t believe he’s just kept this to himself. He never had the impression that Niall was even interested. He really is an idiot.

“I kind of figured it out,” he goes on to say, moving a hand to Harry’s thigh. “When we were playing that fucking game, yesterday. You weren’t as subtle as you thought. Looked like you were going to attack Liam when he went back for more, like you were about to cry when Louis snogged me. I figured that you had feelings for me, so it hurt when you didn’t want to kiss me. In hindsight, I know now that maybe you didn’t want to kiss me in front of the others, but that was how it felt.”

It hits Harry like a freight train, almost. He always knew that Niall was smart, the best at reading a room out of all of them, but he never thought he’d find this all out, through a fucking game of spin the bottle.

“You locked your door,” Harry mumbles, voice a little hoarse from the crying and lack of use.

“Wanted time to think,” Niall tells him, hand gripping at his thigh tightly. “You’ve got to understand, Haz. I’ve wanted you for a long time. Then just when I thought I really was okay with just being friends, this happens. Louis said you’ve felt this way since last year-”

“Lou told you?” Harry asks, feeling a little betrayed.

“Don’t get mad at him, I cornered him. Made him tell me everything he knew,” Niall says. “Had to make sure about what I was doing. So I made the choice to come to you that night. Wanted to take my chance, because I finally had one. And it was so good, I’d never thought that I could be that happy, but you left me. You just up and left without any warning, I thought we were good. I thought we were finally getting somewhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, and he’s got a wave of guilt and sadness crashing over him, and an urge to start crying again. He knows he’s in the wrong, and this is all his fault, and it makes him feel awful.

“I love you too, you idiot,” Niall says, and he really does lose his breath, this time. “You’re such a fucking twat, but I love you too. But sometimes it's not enough. Five fucking years of my life, waiting for you-”

Harry holds back the apology he’s got at the tip of his tongue, and instead takes hold of Niall’s hands. Brings them up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, and he knows it’s not perfect.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers, lips on his skin, and he’s looking up at Niall. Takes in his bright, blue eyes, so warm, and the little quirk of his mouth. “Every year you waited and more. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll never leave you again. Not unless you want me to. I'm sorry, but. I love you. I don't ever not want to be with you. This might not be enough now, but I'll do anything I can for you to not doubt me. I promise. Everything for you.”

Niall is silent after that, looking down at their joined hands, looking contemplative, and it makes Harry a little nervous, but he waits. Puts his own heart on the line like Niall did when he knocked on his hotel door, and hopes he does better this time around.

“Change your Twitter bio first. Been lying to the people since 2015, you twat,” Niall says, and Harry kisses him then.

Takes his chance, because he knows he has one. And it’s good.

Feels like he’s seeing Niall almost fall over as he’s dancing, laughing and grinning, all over again. And he doesn’t miss his line, this time.

His _just this once_ expired. He thinks he might have gotten an  _always, forever_ , in its place.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to write sex, but couldn’t do it without at least a teeny bit of plot. Sigh. Please know that I tried, though.


End file.
